


la vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel

by aroacejeanprouvaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Non-Binary Bahorel, Other, jehan with social anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacejeanprouvaire/pseuds/aroacejeanprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Les Miserables Reverse Bang!<br/>A link to the artwork will go here when I have one.<br/>Jehan is anxious but loves being with his friends. Bahorel grows a beard and it is majestic. Everyone ends up covered in flowers, and maybe in mud as well.</p><p>The original prompt was: Bahorel's beard is Luxurious, Majestic and there are flowers involved. Bahorel/Jehan<br/>I may have gotten a little carried away with researching what flowers grow in Paris in Spring and trying to include as many as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	la vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel

Bossuet had organised the picnic, so of course it rained for the entirety of the day before, making the park more like a bog by the morning of the picnic, but Jehan was determined to attend anyway. He got up, said good morning to Dante and Lobster (a cockatiel and an eclectus parrot, respectively), and ate some dry cereal (he’d run out of milk the day before). Once he’d put the bowl in the sink he went back to the bedroom and got dressed, throwing on whatever came to hand first. Lastly he packed a bag of snacks, his 3DS, and a book, and headed out towards the park.

On his way he checked Facebook on his phone. A handful of messages had popped up on the picnic’s event page over the course of the morning. The first one was from Grantaire, saying that he wasn’t going anywhere on a day like this. It was followed by 237 comments, probably all from Joly and Bossuet, and from the few final comments that Facebook was actually displaying it looked like they’d talked Grantaire into coming after all.

The next message was Courfeyrac, saying he was sick and couldn’t make it. There was a comment after that from Combeferre, saying that he and Enjolras had managed to catch Courf’s cold as well and that the three of them were quarantining themselves in their apartment before they got anyone else sick.

Marius had never responded to the event, and probably hadn’t seen it at all. Eponine had clicked ‘maybe attending’, probably waiting to see if Marius was going to be there since she didn’t know anyone else very well, so it looked like she wasn’t coming either. Musichetta and Feuilly were working, so that left Bossuet, Joly, Grantaire and Bahorel.

Half way to the park Jehan texted Bahorel, just to make sure.

Bahorel texted back, ‘yeah ill b there. ur text woke me up tho so running a bit late.’

Jehan sighed, and walked a little slower. It wasn’t that he didn’t love all his friends, he was just generally more at ease with Bahorel around.

When he got to the park Joly and Bossuet had arrived already, and were waiting at the fountain, which was the designated meeting point.

Bossuet waved as Jehan walked the last few metres to them. Joly rested both hands on top of his cane and smiled.

“Grantaire’s on his way. Or, well, he’s awake, anyway.” Bossuet told him.

Jehan nodded. “Bahorel’s about the same.”

“And no one else is coming.” Joly said. “So let’s go claim that gazebo before anyone else does, because nowhere else is going to be dry today and there is no way I’m sitting in the mud.”

Joly lead them along the path, keeping well away from the muddy grass, although Bossuet managed to step in a puddle anyway. In the gazebo there was a table with seats fixed on either side. Joly and Bossuet sat on one side, huddling under the picnic blanket they’d brought, and Jehan lay down on the other side, stretching out across the whole seat, and looking sideways at the park.

After a few minutes he sat up and got out his 3DS to play Pokemon. Joly and Bossuet were talking, but he wasn’t sure what about. They didn’t mind him keeping a little bit to himself, although after a little while they both came around to his side of the table, sitting on either side of him and offering advice (or just clamouring for him to use whatever move they thought sounded the coolest). Bossuet arranged the blanket over all of their legs and they sat in a contented bubble until they heard voices getting closer behind them.

“Is that even them?”

“Of course it’s them, you can see Bossuet’s head shining from here.”

“Don’t we have more than three friends?”

“They’re sick, and/or lazy. This is all we get today.”

“Oh, well, this is a pretty good selection.” The three of them turned around in time to see Bahorel make that last remark. Bahorel grinned at them and dragged Grantaire into the gazebo. “I had to pick this arsehole up on my way, sorry it took so long.”

“In our defence, we brought snacks.” Grantaire added, tossing two shopping bags onto the table, before pulling all three of them into an awkward hug from behind and then going to sit across from them.

Jehan saved his game and put the 3DS aside just before Bahorel extracted him from between Joly and Bossuet and pulled him into a proper hug, dragging him backwards off the bench and holding him up off the ground. Jehan, awkward and gangly, was slightly taller than Bahorel, but Bahorel was all compact muscle, and could, with some manoeuvring, lift Jehan up. They didn’t quite get the logistics right this time, but Jehan was kind enough to pull his knees up to keep his feet off the concrete floor while the others laughed at Bahorel.

It was only when Jehan finally managed to squirm around to face Bahorel that he noticed – Bahorel had a beard.

Bahorel had had a kind of ‘designer stubble’ look happening for about as long as Jehan could remember, but an actual beard was new, and must have somehow sprung into being in the few days that had passed since Jehan had last seen them.

“Beard.” Jehan said, eloquently.

Bahorel grinned. “You like it?”

Jehan nodded. “Why’d you grow it out?”

“You know that internship I was trying not to get?” Bahorel waited for Jehan to nod again. “Well, despite my best efforts, I got it. They have a dress code, and I was told the bit of stubble I had at my interview was fine, but to keep it short and neat.”

Bossuet laughed beside them. “So naturally you had to grow it.”

“Of course.” Bahorel gave a solemn nod. “What else was I to do? I’m also wearing waistcoats at least twice a week, because they said ‘formal business wear, but not over the top like a waistcoat or anything,’”

Jehan reached out and touched the thick dark hair, looking slightly awed. Bahorel raised an eyebrow, and then they kissed Jehan, so that he could feel the beard against his face, and because Jehan was beautiful and kissable.

It had been like that with them for a long time, because kisses were easy, and they both liked kisses, and because they didn’t need to puzzle out exactly what they were together to know what they liked and what felt good.

The two of them settled down next to Grantaire, who was busy regaling Bossuet and Joly with the convoluted story of what he’d been doing the night before. Bahorel passed some snacks around and conversation was easy between the five of them, although Jehan didn’t say all that much. What he did say he generally addressed to Bahorel, or to the bag of chips in front of him, but the others were used to it and accepted and expanded on each of his contributions.

Eventually they got a little boisterous for him, with everyone laughing along to Bossuet’s story about how he’d accidentally shoplifted a week ago, and Jehan quietly pulled Bahorel’s arm off his shoulders and slipped away from the table.

Bahorel grabbed him just before he got out of reach. “You okay?”

Jehan nodded and smiled. “Yep, just going to walk around a bit.”

Bahorel smiled back and let him go.

Jehan wandered around the park, his boots squelching in the mud. Spring had arrived properly in the last few weeks and there were flowers popping up everywhere. Every second tree in the park was heavy with cherry blossom, and Jehan reached up and snapped a bow from a low-hanging branch, carrying it carefully so as not to dislodge any flowers. Close to the edge of the park Jehan found peonies growing. He was so lost in thought as he wandered that he barely realised he was picking the flowers until he had more than he could carry and had to fold the bottom of his jumper into a pouch to fit them all.

He carefully took those ones back to the gazebo and deposited them on the table. The conversation at the table hardly faltered, although Grantaire picked up a peony and began absently pulling the petals off one by one. Jehan didn’t mind, since he had so many, and the petals were each beautiful in their own right.

He set off again, walking in a different direction this time until he found himself surrounded by yellow daffodils. He carefully gathered some into a bunch. Close to the daffodils he discovered Gourdon flowers growing on the low wall that bordered a path - little blue stars nestled in the stones. While he was on his way back to the gazebo with those he came across a tiny patch of cowslip, and carefully freed one hand to pull up a handful of the bugle-shaped flowers.

Once in the gazebo he put his cargo down on the table and then looked up to find that Joly and Grantaire were both hard at work using the dampness of the peony petals to make them stick to Bossuet’s head. They were pressing the petals on in a careful ring, like a misshapen pink crown. Bahorel was sitting by and handing petals to them, when they weren’t too busy laughing.

Jehan grinned at them all and was about to set off again when Bahorel grabbed him and said, “If you’re determined to collect all the flowers in the park, I’m pretty sure I saw some forget-me-nots on my way in.”

Bahorel pointed Jehan to where they meant, and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then a little shove in the right direction. Jehan grinned and hurried off.

Sure enough there were forget-me-nots where Bahorel had said, as well as a little patch of violets. Jehan ran back to the gazebo with them, his bounds sending mud flying up over the backs of his legs.

Bossuet’s crown had been completed, and Grantaire was now carefully threading Gourdon flowers into Joly’s hair, although only after Joly checked each one for bugs. When the undertaking was complete Joly sat there grinning, looking ethereal and resplendent. Bossuet started taking Instagram photos of Joly, and then of both of them together. Bahorel tucked a peony behind Grantaire’s ear, and Grantaire joined Joly and Bossuet for more photos.

Jehan took a seat on Bahorel’s side of the bench, half in their lap, and held up the forget-me-nots. “These are for you.” He said, and then started pulling off individual flowers and sticking them into Bahorel’s beard.

Bahorel laughed until Jehan grabbed their face and told them mock-seriously to stay still.

“You really like the beard, don’t you?” Bahorel asked.

Jehan didn’t answer, only kept on industriously arranging the forget-me-nots. As he did that, Bahorel began sticking daffodils in to the band that was holding Jehan’s locs in a ponytail, and tucking cowslip and peonies into his collar.

While Joly, Bossuet and Grantaire had purposefully made themselves look silly, Bahorel somehow managed to be stunning. The others looked up and noticed this, and apparently thought that Jehan was stunning too.

Grantaire pulled out his phone and held it up. “Holy shit, you two, shift over into the sunlight and let me get a better picture. When did all my friends become such babes?”

Bossuet was just staring at them in awe, and Joly had grabbed Bossuet’s phone and was about to start taking pictures as well.

Sometimes Jehan could deal with attention, and sometimes he couldn’t. His friends understood that, but sometimes they forgot. He glanced at Bahorel, who was posing like Grantaire had asked, and then hurriedly slid off the seat. “I’m going to find more flowers.” He blurted out, and then he was rushing out of the gazebo.

He’d made it all the way back to the daffodils before Bahorel caught up with him. But, in typical Bahorel fashion, they didn’t just catch up with him, they also physically caught him, grabbing him around the waist, surprising Jehan enough that he slipped, and made them both overbalance and tip laughing into the mud.

Once they were down neither of them felt any great desire to get up, so they lay companionably side by side, with mud splattered all over them.

Jehan reached out and held Bahorel’s hand. “You didn’t need to come after me. I’m fine.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were fine, and I should have checked if you were okay with photos and stuff today or not.”

“But now I’ve taken you away from the others, and you were having so much fun.”

“I’ve been talking to them all day. I want to talk to you now anyway.”

Jehan rolled onto his side with a squelch and looked at Bahorel. “Your beard’s all messed up.”

“Is there mud in it?”

“No, the forget-me-nots are just all over the place. Most of them at least stayed in though.” He reached over and started straightening out the little flowers.

Once he’d done that he picked up a peony that had fallen from his collar and put it on Bahorel’s chest. Then he started transferring the rest of the flowers from his collar to Bahorel, interspersing them with the odd daffodil from the patch around them.

“You need a crown as well,” he said thoughtfully, and carefully arranged some flowers around Bahorel’s head, although he didn’t weave them together, so a few fell off every time Bahorel moved. “Okay, now for the finishing touch.” Jehan knelt and then stood up, but when Bahorel moved to follow he added, “no, stay there.”

He ran off, but only to the closest cherry blossom tree, where he pulled off handfuls of petals. That done, he ran back, and tossed them into the air over Bahorel, letting them shower down over them.

Bahorel started laughing, their big, full-body laugh. It made most of their crown fall off, and they got some cherry blossom rain in their mouth. “I should go to my internship like this,” they said, when they finally managed to stop laughing.

Jehan nodded, mock-serious again. “The forget-me-not beard is perfect for a work environment, and the other flowers are good too, although I think what really completes the look is that you’re completely covered in mud.”

“So are you.” Bahorel pointed out.

“So I am. Maybe I should apply for your internship.” He offered a hand to help Bahorel up. “Or maybe we should fix this. Shower at mine?”

Bahorel got to their feet, grinning. “Are you inviting me because of the beard?”

Jehan gave them a considering look. “No, not just the beard. I definitely want all the rest of you in my shower too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was completely stuck for a title and googled "french quotes about flowers". The first result, which I used, was attributed to Victor Hugo. I have no idea what it's original context was.


End file.
